


New Rules

by J0SIES



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Tension, i wrote this like...last year ctfu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 05:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14466264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J0SIES/pseuds/J0SIES
Summary: In which, Josie's life imitates musical art [Post-High School].





	New Rules

One: Don't pick up the phone ~~/ You know he's only callin' 'cause he's drunk and alone~~

 

Archie Andrews was calling her.

Josie broke her empty stare-off with the blank white pages of her notebook as she dug her iPhone out of her pocket and skeptically considered whether she should accept or decline the incoming call. Earlier in the day, she’d ran into him earlier at Pop Tate’s diner when she was having brunch with her mother. On any other day she would have ignored him—or rather pretended, that she didn’t know him--and kept it moving, but Sierra McCoy acted as though she was still the Mayor of Riverdale, and had insisted he come over to their booth and ‘catch up’. Josie had wanted to die of embarrassment, but she’d smiled politely and conversed with him under her mom’s watchful eye. He’d actually seemed…interested in how she was doing. His brown eyes still regarded her with a soft warmth and he sent her the same lazy smile. He’d even asked about Mel and Val. They’d exchanged numbers. He left and Josie continued eating her meal.

And now he was calling her.

Hesitantly, she pressed the green telephone silhouette and put the device to her ear. “Archie. How can I help you?” She asked coolly, confused as to why her heart was pounding in her chest.

He sounded just as nervous as she felt. “Hey, err, Josie. I was just wondering if…”

“…If?” God, he wasn’t going to ask her out, was he? _Ew, no, why on earth would you think that?_ She reprimanded herself for such delusional thoughts. Archie may have been the heartthrob of the town once upon a time ago, but she had prided herself on being immune to his charms.

“I’m, um, working on a song—which I think would be great for you and the Pussycats, actually.” She could hear the faint rustling of papers in the background. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over and jump in on it? Like we did in high school.” That had only happened _one_ time, yet she could still remember the mixed emotions that had coursed through her when he had offered to write songs for the band. The teenage Pussycat had regarded him as not only a beacon of naivety and privilege, but also as a challenge to her music career, and an unwelcome distraction.

“So you _still_ feel qualified to write for divas of color?” She tilted her head to the side with pursed lips. As a 16 year old, she had despised living in such a small town, thus she'd naively dreamed of exploring larger cities and being launched into stardom the moment she arrived. Now, as an NYU music student, she realised that the world was a shitty place no matter where you went.

He was just as clueless as when he’d answered the first time. A slight panic seeped into his tone as he grappled for an answer. “No! I mean, yeah. Maybe?”

She smirked, rolling her eyes at how stupidly adorable he sounded. “Relax, Justin Gingerlake, I was kidding.” Adorable. _Really?_ Her brain was just tired from a severe lack of activity, she convinced herself, and with little luck she had been attempting to write a song herself for the last few hours. Josie was merely lacking in intellectual stimulation. “What’s your address? Maybe I can fit you into my busy schedule,” she caved.

* * *

 

 “So. What do think?” Archie asked.

Little did he know that Josie had read the same line for the 67th time, unable to focus as he sat next to her on the couch in his tiny shared apartment—a little too close for her liking. He smelt. However, it wasn’t the typical revolting wave of BO that smacked you dead in the face, instead it was masculine and clean cut and…nice. _What the hell was wrong with her?_

Then there was his disgustingly perfect muscular arm that was draped on the back of the sofa mere centimetres for her shoulder. Every little thing he did somehow managed to distract her. The pattern of his breathing. The idle tapping of his finger against his knee. His entire existence.

“Josie?”

“What?” She snapped, looking at him with an arched eyebrow. _You despise this guy,_ ~~she lied to~~ reminded herself, _you always have._

“What do you think of the lyrics? Do you like ‘em?” The corners of his mouth slowly lifted to give her his signature grin—the unintentionally panty-dropping one. Shit.

“It’s err…it's okay, I guess.” Josie shuffled awkwardly in her seat beside him, hating how her cheeks heated up under his close gaze. Whenever she spoke, he hung onto her every word like they were the musings of a deity. Archie had a _lot_ of respect for her. She swallowed, shifting through the sheets of paper as she did what she always did best: she criticised him. That was bound to push him away. Bluntly, she stated, “It’s kinda cliché. Also, the second verse sounds like something Taylor Swift would write if she was on crack. It’s bad—“

The singer was abruptly cut off by his impulsive decision to lean forward and kiss her. Her whole frame went rigid, which he took as a sign of rejection causing him to pull away whilst red-faced and sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. He cringed at her reaction of a wide eyed glare, “Fuck, I’m sorry--”

Shoving the papers in her lap to the floor, Josie grabbed the back of his head and sealed their mouths together once more. The Pussycat’s logic was 100% against where things were going but several of her other anatomical features were telling her to scratch this itch once and for all. Archie’s lips matched hers in their feverish movements, he relished in the softness of her mouth, sucking and licking at her deliciously parted lips.

The upper half of Josie’s body was pressed firmly against his chest. Despite the layers of clothing that separated them, her breasts had a newfound sensitivity amid her desire. Archie’s large hands began to wonder, resulting in her unashamedly moaning into his mouth as his palms caressed the slope of her bare lower back beneath her tee. Such a simple touch set her skin on fire; she needed more.

Her wish was granted when Archie’s grip her waist tightened, transporting her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. His song lyrics lay on the floor, abandoned and long forgotten. He buried his face in the curve of her neck whilst his hands clutched her ass over her skirt holding her as close as physically possible. Eyelids heavy with arousal, Josie sighed, slightly arching her back in pleasure in response to his gifted mouth kissing and nipping playfully at the flesh of her jaw and along the column of her neck. The feel of him—all of him—rubbed against her core, adding to the intensity of its wet throb.

“Wait…” Josie hadn’t realised she was speaking until her partner’s ruffled red head popped up to regard her with concerned eyes. The Pussycat’s eyes narrowed. “This means absolutely nothing. You’re here. I’m horny,” she clarified in a breathless whisper.

“Ok, sure I—“

“Stop talking,” she silenced him again by sliding her lips back over his. She didn’t have any feelings for Archie “the ever-almighty saviour, bringer of good will and compassion to Riverdale” Andrews. Josie had barely glanced his way in high school, but at that current moment in time she felt an attraction to him that she hadn’t felt with anybody in a long time. It wasn’t a big deal, people hooked up all the time.

Their position of contact changed. Josie was laid on the couch with her head on the armrest whilst Archie lay on top of her, her legs wrapped around his hips. Their groans content continued a while longer along with the torturous slow grind of her sodden panty-covered centre against his--  
  
The sound of a key jangling in the lock of the front door sounded. Both Josie and Archie's lustful motions stopped. Eyes still dazed, their heads darted over to look at the doorway. "Archie, I went to Pop's an--" A confused looking Jughead Jones stood there, clutching a Chocklit takeout bag.

_Shit._

**Author's Note:**

> SO...I planned and wrote this last year but I was really busy with school-stuff and it never saw the light of day. The fact that it's inspired by Dua Lipa's 'New Rules' tells you how old this is (Celine, if you're reading this: I am so sorry dfhdkf). Archosie lives on in my heart, forever and always! Me, personally? I can't read this fic without laughing.
> 
> Any kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading <3


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